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When I fucked us over with the Carly thing, I didn’t know who she was.
As I walk up to my cottage with Greer Manning, I know exactly how much trouble I’m inviting into my house, but I can’t fucking help myself.
Everything is quiet as we enter the small, basic living room. If Matt was here, I would have had a chance at stopping what now is inevitable.
“This is…” She looks around the room, taking in the way the other half lives.
I know how the staff quarters must look to her. The funny thing is, I grew up in a house that wasn’t much larger than this cottage, but rather than housing two people, we were a family of five. The entire fucking cottage could fit in Greer’s room in the main building, but it’s not her fault that we come from and live in different worlds, and I won’t hold it against her. “It’s fine,” I offer. “We’re at work most of the time, and who needs a big room when there’s an entire ocean just out there?”
If she sees through my bullshit, she doesn’t give it away, and I like her even more for that. Greer isn’t pretentious like her older sister, and that’s my fucking downfall. With someone like Chelsea, I could see anything that could be happening between us like a transaction of some sort. She’d have a dirty summer fling with a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, someone who’d fuck her the way those spoiled, Richie Riches she’s used to would never be able to. I would experience zillion count bedsheets, soft, flawless skin, and curves designed by the trendiest personal trainers money can buy.
I show Greer to the bathroom, knowing that she’s nothing like her sister and this is why I’ve been trying my hardest to stay away from her. With her, there’s a real potential to hurt and get hurt. She’s way too real and nothing like I expected from someone who grew up the way she did.
I make one last-ditch attempt to stop this train wreck waiting to happen. “Wash away the salt. There’s body wash and shampoo in the shower. I’m going to see what we have for breakfast. I might be able to offer you a selection of two or three types of cereal if Matt hasn’t been snacking late at night, trying to sober up.”
The table is set in seconds. It’s not like I have more than two cereal bowls and two spoons anyway, but it will have to do. “Greer?” I call out when I realize that I don’t hear the shower running.
I walk back into the bathroom when I don’t get a response, and I can’t help but chuckle at the sight that greets me when I get there. “What the fuck happened to you?”
Her blue eyes blaze with fury at the same time as her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Are you going to help me, or are you going to stand there and laugh like a dumbass?”
She’s trapped in her wetsuit. The zipper is undone in the front, but the pink neoprene of the suit is twisted, practically making her unable to move her arms. I come to her rescue, lowering the material down her body and dumping it on the floor, where it lands with a wet plop.
Greer’s chest is rising and falling rhythmically, as if she’d been running, a thin sheen of sweat dampens her soft skin, and one of her tits escaped from the spandex of her bikini top while she was struggling to get out of the wetsuit.
I know I should look away, and I know even better that I definitely shouldn’t touch her, but I’m not made of fucking stone, and the sight of the soft swell of her breasts, of her pink, hardening nipple, goes straight to my cock—as does the soft sound she makes as I run my finger down her collarbone and all the way down to the velvety skin that’s begging for my touch.
Greer closes her eyes as I pinch her nipple, leaning into my touch, and I lose the last shred of resolve that was keeping me from her.
When I close my mouth over her aching, hard point, I know there’s no turning back. I swirl my tongue around it, hardening in my swimming trunks as she hardens even more in my mouth. The way she gasps when I suck on her makes my dick twitch with a need that’s so intense it’s fucking scary. I graze her with my teeth, and she arches her back to lean more into the contact with my mouth, grabbing my biceps like a lifeline and closing her eyes as I bite, lick, and suck the same way I’ve been dreaming about her doing to me.
“Brady, don’t stop,” she begs as I release her tit.
There’s no fucking way in hell I could stop now, even if I know I should.
I pick her up, loving the feeling of her soft skin against my chest, and grab a handful of her toned but supple buttocks as I carry her into the shower. “Let’s get cleaned up, baby,” I say, placing her back onto her own two feet as I work on getting the water to the right temperature.
She nods, untying the strings of her bikini top, and the sight of her big, perfect tits gets rid of the last shreds of hesitation I was desperately trying to cling onto. Fuck, she’s so beautiful and she acts like she doesn’t even know it.
I wash her chest with a soft soapy cloth, running my mouth down the newly cleaned skin, all the way down to the smooth, soft expanse of her stomach. There’s just a tiny bit of extra softness there, and I find it sexy as hell. I think all women are beautiful in their own right, but I love the fact that Greer isn’t always counting calories and working out to stay as skinny as her older sister and her mother. She isn’t fat by any means, she’s just real and delicious, so I can’t resist tracing my tongue over the faint tan line right under the low waistband of her bikini bottoms.
“This okay?” I ask, pulling on the strings that tie her bikini low on her hips.
The answer is a nod and a shuddering breath as I stare at the bare skin of her perfect pussy, sinking down to my knees in front of her. “Fuck, this is so hot.You’rehot, Greer.”
She giggles nervously at my surprise. “Glad you like it. I guess I should thank Chelsea for talking me into getting a Brazilian wax the other day at the spa.”
I pull her closer to my face. “I guess we should thank Chelsea, after all.”
My eyes meet here as I lower my face and run my lips up and down the smoothest skin I’ve ever felt. When she gasps, letting out a soft moan, I repeat the action, kissing my way from entrance to clit, using my tongue to part her skin and expose her needy, swollen little bundle of nerves.
I place a series of kisses on it, going from featherlight to more forceful, letting her breathing and the sounds she makes guide me as to how much pressure she needs.
I haven’t done this in a while, not since my college girlfriend. Eating pussy isn’t something I do with a casual hookup, no matter how much I really enjoy doing it. It’s more intimate than just suiting up and going to pound town on someone you won’t remember the name of the second the condom hits the trash can. But this is fucking different, and I’m not doing this just to get my own rocks off. I can’t fucking get enough of Greer, and I’m going to make sure I give her every ounce of pleasure I can, however I can.
“Brady,” she moans as I flick my tongue where I know she needs it most before latching onto her clit and sucking her into my mouth. “Oh my God!” she screams, closing her eyes.
“Look at me, baby,” I say without leaving her skin. “I want you to look at me when you come.”
